Shifting Tides
by Blaze Titanium
Summary: He was the so-called prodigy. The boy who would return to reclaim the throne, to defeat the splicers and renew the rule of Rapture. Perhaps there was more to it... A one-shot for now, depending how things go.


The swirling darkness flowed endlessly beyond the thick glass. Pressing his face against the window, he could see a school of fish race by, causing him to jolt back slightly. He leaned back, gazing at the large skyscrapers looming in the distance, their large silhouettes towering above the abyss-like gloom. Sighing, the young man turned away from the ceiling-to-floor windows to hear the crackle of the PA system.

"All able-bodied citizens, please travel to Apollo Square, our peacekeepers will help in maintain your safety." The female voice spoke.

"Bull." The young man replied aloud as he lit a cigar he had found, tasting the sweet smoke in his throat. With that, he began to pace the small corridor, gazing at the black and white checkered floor. He adjusted his tie and gazed at a clock on the wall; its glass cover was cracked and it had stopped ticking, perhaps a long time ago.

Truth be told, the young man hated the city, it was long past its expiration date and was on the verge of collapse, yet he was here, digging up the clues to his past. His father had visited the city almost twenty years prior, almost dying several times evident by his journal that the young man had discovered when he had found an old chest.

Taking a long puff, the young man pulled the ancient leather journal from his back pocket and flipped it open to flip aimlessly through the worn, yellowed pages. He sighed as he came across a page with two pictures glued to the paper. Each photograph was in poor condition, some edges already crumbling off. Glancing at both faces appearing in each photo, the young man could see some kind of resemblance between the two; almost as if they were relatives. He noticed that one had apparently blond hair slicked to the side while the other was bald with a slight moustache. Shaking his head, the young man put away the journal before strolling into a nearby shop.

Already ransacked, the young man stepped over the pieces of debris while weaving through the wrecked shelves, all without any sort of items. Slipping around the counter, the young man noticed a corpse of a man leaning against the back of the counter, his brains splattered everywhere. Nudging the cadaver aside with his foot, the young man found a slight edge and peered underneath to discover a hidden button; with a push, a secret compartment popped open and a pump-action shotgun fell out into the man's arms. Feeling its weight, the young man cocked it to witness a shell drop to the floor.

"Guess it's still got ammo." The young man muttered as he braced over his shoulder before strolling confidently out of the store. Looking around, the young man decided to go left, wandering through the abandoned building before coming across a plaza with a large dome stretching overhead. In the center was a bronze statue, one of a man holding a cane while looking on sternly.

"So we finally meet." The young man says aloud as he makes his way so that he is in-front of the statue.

He gazes up into the statue's lifeless eyes, "Well, sort of."

Glancing down, the young man could see a bold plaque below the statue's feet. It read: **"IN THE COMMEMORATION OF OUR FOUNDER, ANDREW RYAN."**

The young man snickered, "So you're name's Andrew Ryan? Funny, mine is too; the second to be exact." He paused dramatically, letting the feeling sink in, "Yeah, you heard right, you may have learned about my father, a fellow by the name of _Jack _Ryan. Ring any bells." Guffawing some more, Andrew leaned in and tapped the bronze leg with his trusty metal baseball bat, "Got to admit, grandpa, this place went to hell; but don't worry, I can fix it up for you." He grinned evilly.

Then suddenly, there was a sound of metal striking something as a voice called out, "Fresh meat!" With that, the whole room broke into chaos as the monsters known as splicers rushed in. Some held old Thompsons, there frames barely maintained. Others dropped from the balcony and the ceiling, carried shotguns, pistols, and some even had bloody meat-hooks wrapped to their hands.

One of them unexpectedly materialized in a red cloud, leaning in with a cracked, bloody bunny mask, a loose smile on his face, "Give us your blood, _meat_."

Andrew chuckled before suddenly clipping the splicer across the face with his bat, "Yeah, go screw yourself." The hit sent the splicer flying, causing him to collapse on the floor.

He looked up, his mask had fallen off, showing off an ugly, swollen face, "We will kill you."

Feeling the cool metal of his bat, Andrew grinned cockily, "You can't have me, come and get me if you want me." With that, Andrew pulled out a strange hypodermic needle from his belt.

"Guess it's time." Andrew muttered to himself as he senselessly stabbed the needle into the wrist and pushed down on the plunger. He watched the glowing, electric-blue liquid travel into his body as his arm began to tingle.

A female splicer shrieked from the balcony, "He's got EVE! Get him!" Andrew glanced at the worn logo of the needle, displaying a blond woman gesturing to a purple apple. The word "EVE" appeared above in a large font. The teleporting splicer began to stand as Andrew's wrist began to blacken as if burnt, his veins began to glow a deep red as he saw heat rising from his hand.

"What the-" He managed to say before the teleporting splicer charged him. Thinking fast, Andrew flicked his hand forward, suddenly covering the splicer in a shroud of flames. He collapsed to the floor, screaming until silenced by the fire.

With that, the other splicers opened fire, causing Andrew to take cover behind the statue as the bullets began to pelt it. Andrew took a deep breath before glancing over to see a pink neon sign that read, "Welcome to Rapture!" With that, Andrew chuckled at the name "Rapture" before turning the corner to face the horde of crazed splicers. The new order had begun.


End file.
